


Love (Or: Kíli learns all the ways in which being a brother sucks)

by MischiefManaged



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefManaged/pseuds/MischiefManaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli is the stronger one. Fíli is the wiser, indestructible one. Fíli is the one with a plan, and the one to execute it flawlessly. At least, that's how Kíli sees him. He's never really grown out of that admiration phase of being a younger brother, well into his seventies now, though it's turned to a silent sort of sureness in his brother's abilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love (Or: Kíli learns all the ways in which being a brother sucks)

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [this](http://prompts-and-pointers.tumblr.com/post/41800858177) prompt. As the prompt suggests, it's not a cute sort of sick!fic, in that it's not just a small case of the sniffles. Pretty G-rated, unless descriptions of being sick bumps that up. Also posted to my tumblr.

Fili is the stronger one. Fili is the wiser, indestructible one. Fili is the one with a plan, and the one to execute it flawlessly. At least, that's how Kili sees him. He's never really grown out of that admiration phase of being a younger brother, well into his seventies now, though it's turned to a silent sort of sureness in his brother's abilities. 

That little bubble of infallibility is violently shattered one rather unremarkable morning when Kili awakes to the sound of his brother choking on his own vomit in the bed across from his. He's sitting up with just enough time to see Fili lean over the edge of his bed and paint their fur carpeting with a myriad of unappealing colors and textures. He slaps a hand over his own mouth to keep from following suit. 

"Basin," Fili chokes out in between painful-sounding retches and Kili thinks that yeah, that might be a good plan. 

It takes him three minutes to stop being too nauseous to stand, and in that time Fili has made seven noises Kili had previously thought impossible outside of Orcs and spiders. 

Once accomplished, it takes him another ten minutes to convince himself that he needs to go back into the room and help Fili because that's what brothers do. The smell of acrid sickness hits him in a wave of unpleasantness as soon as he opens the heavy door and he says a prayer to Mahal that this is a one day thing. 

His older (infallible, indestructible, undefeated, vomit-crusted, snotty, gross—) brother is now face down on the rug, surrounded by a puddle of something Kili refuses to classify as anything other than "sick." 

"C'mon, Fee. Don't jus' lay there," Kili says as he sets the basin beside his own bed and tugs at his brother's shoulders. Fili's response could be "Leave me to my misery," but could also be that one elvish phrase Thorin made them swear never to repeat ever again.

There's something humbling about dragging a loved one out of a pile of sick and wiping neon chunks from their beard, Kili thinks-but-doesn't think-too-hard-about. There's something entirely different about seeing your hero and mentor reduced to a boneless toxin spewing monster with a beard covered in vomit. 

He dwarf-handles his brother into his bed with a mental note to have his entire bed dressings replaced and places the basin within his range. Fili is propped up so he can easily roll over and not choke himself again if he falls asleep, but also isn't sat up too high. 

Now that he can get a good look at his brother, Kili frowns. His eyes are red and nearly sealed shut with sleep-crust and sick-crust and gooey, disgusting green slime that comes with the territory of being sick. His mustache is glossed with snot and his nose is entirely clogged, meaning his mouth is hanging open lest his try breathing through his nose and make a cacophony of unwanted noises.

"S'it tha' bad?" Fili asks and Kili doesn't have the heart to tell him that it's much worse. Instead he uses his sleeve to wipe drool from the corner of his brother's mouth (panicking when it comes back an unsettling yellow-green color) and shakes his head.

"Not nearly as bad as the time ya got yerself all tangled up in that ivy and swelled up near big as an mûmak," he teases lightly as he wipes his sleeve off on Fili's night shirt.

Fili's scoff starts off as just that, but quickly escalates into a coughing fit, which eventually trickles down into more vomiting. He makes a lot of pained noises that make Kili flinch in detached sympathy until he can't take it anymore and flees the room in search of a pitcher of water. 

He ends up over thinking everything and returns twenty minutes later with another basin (this one filled with cool water) and a goblet. Fili eyes it as he sets it onto the carpet—Kili is supremely alarmed by the fact that he's no longer made nauseous by the smell of the room— then turns his gaze to his brother. "Goin' drown me?"

Kili laughs and lifts the now filled goblet to his brother's mouth to help him drink. "Might do ya some good, but no. I'll clean ya up a bit, though."

It's not pleasant. He goes through four towels before Fili's hair and beard are completely clear, and then another six when Fili spews sick all down the front of Kili's tunic. 

It's a two hour process, getting Fili clean and keeping Fili from vomiting. Fili stops him every five to ten minutes to thank him for being "wonderfa, wonderfa," and he may be running a supremely high fever, but once it's done and his brother has gone into a coma-like sleep Kili finally changes into a clean outfit and climbs into bed beside his brother.

His sleep is lighter.

Until he wakes up five hours later choking on his own bile and cursing Fili in every way he's been taught. 

When Thorin finally comes to visit them well past sunset, they're both sitting on the rugs in front of the sick basin, wrapped in blankets and bemoaning their fortunes. Thorin decides this is a task best left to Dis and a doctor, and quietly leaves the room to go fetch them.


End file.
